


A Proper Victorian Holiday Season (or almost)

by C-chan (1001paperboxes)



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Tree, Game Spoilers, Gen, M/M, Victorian factoids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 15:13:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13010457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1001paperboxes/pseuds/C-chan
Summary: A formal invitation containing "a humble request for your assistance in decorating the Bloodmarch manor, with afternoon tea to follow" leading to steampunk attire, Christmas carols, and the trimming of one very large tree.





	A Proper Victorian Holiday Season (or almost)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [icandrawamoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/gifts).



> This story probably makes the most sense between the end of Damien's third date and the Good Ending. I don't know if that's even possible timeline-wise, but we'll pretend it does to make good seasonal things work.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and happy holidays!

I almost hate to admit it, but Amanda was right. Exploring the neighbourhood and making new friends has been pretty amazing. 

Craig and I have jumped right back into our college relationship… except now with less beer, more running, and the occasional hunt for child-friendly capybara-inclusive media. There's surprisingly few of 'em, but each discovery gets the satisfaction of both winning a treasure hunt, and scoring one less last-minute gift shopping trip.

I go bar hopping with Mary and Rob- uh, Bob- uh, _that guy_ most Friday nights. I never would've thought it, but we actually make a pretty good trio. Good sense of humour, and a surprising amount of moral and emotional support. He's also teaching me how to whittle. So far I've made a pair of chopsticks and seventeen toothpicks.

Brian and I challenge each other to a new sort of duel about once a month. As it turns out, I can shoot hoops way better than him, but he is far superior at getting things into a net. We're almost even in overall count—I've still got his hedge clippers, but he's got my weed wacker. I've been practicing for our eggnog chugging grudge match next week, and I'm looking forward to bringing good ol' Wacky home.

Amanda and I make constant dates to both Joseph's church events and Mat's open mic nights. And, okay, maybe one is a lot more traditionally wholesome fun, and the other is more cultured with a large chance of subversiveness, but we wouldn't miss either for the world. I dread the day that both of them manage to schedule something on the same night, but Amanda says she'll make a decision tree flow chart in case that ever happens.

Hugo and I have been having passionate debates over Dadbook. Currently we're arguing how long a book has to be popular to be considered a classic. So far we both agree that Tolkien and Lewis' works have passed the threshold, but we can't decide over Snicket and Rowling. I'm pretty sure they're getting close with two generations, but Hugo seems convinced that the authors have to be dead first.

As for Damien and I… well, we've been getting a lot closer over the past while. He's a very multifaceted guy—somehow both a proper Victorian goth and a guy that could hack my ass wide open (figuratively). It's been fun to see him code-switch between firewalls and fireplaces, web servers and dumbwaiters, or gigabytes and finger sandwiches. And the way he looks when he's caught up in either… his eyes just sparkle and I can't help but want to listen, even if I know I won't understand even half of what he's saying.

Yep, I'd say he's pretty darn amazing.

And, judging by the way he kissed me last night, I'm pretty sure he thinks I am too.

Speaking of Damien, he invited Amanda and I to come over and help decorate for Christmas. Or rather, he sent us a formal written invitation a month ago inviting us to fulfil "a humble request for your assistance in decorating the Bloodmarch manor, with a late afternoon tea to follow." 

We both marveled over the penmanship before noting the last line, requesting that we come in period-appropriate wear. We had a quick debate on feasibility, co-wrote an RSVP that Damien affectionately critiqued as being more Regency than Victorian, and then we marveled at his penmanship once more. 

I mean, seriously. Did that guy take a course in calligraphy? My handwriting looks like crap.

Getting the outfits was a total team effort. 

By which I Amanda did all of the research, and I provided the cash. 

You know, I've always been been wary of buying clothes online. I mean, what if they don't fit right, or don't look like the pictures online? But this shirt looks spiffy, the vest is amazing, and while the pants could be a little tighter, they're fine with the suspenders Amanda picked up. Now, if only I could figure out what the heck I'm supposed to do with this… uhh...

What is this called again? Not a tie… there's a better term than "neck scarf"....

Right. It's an Ascot. 

(Heh. Ass-cot.)

"Hey Dad!"

I look in the vague direction of Amanda's voice, and see her head sticking out of her bedroom. "Come and help me out!"

Amanda's facing away from the door when I enter, fastening her Dead, Goth & Beyond corset around her waist.

"Are you sure that's supposed to go over your shirt?" I ask.

"Yeah," she replies, though her attention's on the row of hooks and eyes she's attempting to match up. "Shirt, then corset, then dress. It'll be great."

Her hands drop to her side just for a moment, and then she's holding them out. "Now, tighten me up!"

Right. Corsets are supposed to be snug. I grab the two big loops… 'bunny ears', Amanda's called them before, and give an experimental tug.

"Want me to put a foot on your back?"

"Nah," she laughs. "We don't need to go _that_ far. I'm aiming for tight enough for an awesome hourglass, but loose enough for eating twice as many tea sandwiches as you."

Sounds easy enough, right.

"Got it."

I don't got it.

The threading is kind of like a shoe, except with far more parts. It feels like I'm constantly tugging at the wrong place, or too heavy, or too light. But under Amanda's direction, I eventually get it to her satisfaction, and tie it off with a flourish.

Her skirt has a handful of buttons too, but they're at least easy to match up. And the vest does up in the front, so Amanda can take care of that by herself.

She grins when she's done, and then turns to me.

"Here. Let me help with that."

All it takes is a couple knot attempts and the dubious repurposing of the brooch she bought last halloween.

"Ta-da!"

I steal a glance at both of us in the mirror.

"We look good."

"We're not done yet!" Amanda exclaims. "Close your eyes."

"What?" I ask, covering my eyes with both hands. "Are you going to add fangs, and bite my neck?"

Amanda laughs. "While I don't think Damien would mind that, I was thinking something a little more mundane."

I feel a weight upon my head, and Amanda draws my hands away. " _Now_ we're fully dressed."

Amanda's got a pair of goggles around her head now, and I've got a bowler hat decorated with…

Wait. Are those gears?

"Since we're going for modern Victorian chique, I thought a little steampunk would add a nice touch."

"Steampunk, huh?"

Damien would probably like that, right? Either way, it looks good, so I'm willing to give it a shot.

After that, all that's left is for us to put on our outerwear--Amanda's wearing a cloak she got at the Ren Faire, and I'm wearing a greatcoat that's got a a few to many buckles and gears to be _exactly_ period accurate, and then we're on our way.

* * *

**Dad tip #285: Gift bags are reusable and rarely look bad.**

* * *

The walk gives us a chance to take a look at the decorations in the neighbourhood. It's not as impressive as it'll be at night, but there's still a lot to take in.

Brian's lights are all choreographed and set to a rotation of ten or so Christmas carols. It's pretty impressive, and also pretty loud, but he's thoughtful enough to turn the music off at ten. Right now, the lights aren't lit, but Santa is still waving from the roof, and the five caroling snowmen are looking spectacular.

Joseph's got a large outdoor nativity set. He and Brian seem to have an arrangement, because his Christmas hymns are playing now. I'm pretty sure he turns it off when it gets dark, because otherwise it'd just be drowned out by Brian's anyway. It's really impressive in its own right.

All the other houses are decorated to various degrees. Lights here, a wreath there, I'm pretty sure I see a few candle holders in some windows, but I'm not entirely sure which are menorahs and which are kinaras.

And then….

"Are you sure that's the right house?"

It's Damien's house alright, but somehow it looks far less, well, _goth_ than normal. There's garlands around the pillars and the balcony, and ribbons and fur-trimmed cloaks adorning the gargoyles out front. The overall impression is no less grand, but now the house gives a warm, cheery feel where it normally seems imposing.

The door knocker is still the same large, ornately carved bat's head, though, and it makes the same reverberating knock as ever.

Damien answers the door directly this time, and I'm actually kind of glad. The automatic creaking door kind of freaks me out, not that I'd ever admit to it. Amanda would never stop teasing me about being afraid of my boyfriend's house.

"Ah, you made it!"

He seems pretty happy as he looks us over, though his smile becomes more discerning as he takes in our headgear.

"Steampunk, eh? I suppose you had the same idea."

"What idea?" Amanda asks.

We're spared waiting for an answer as Lucien makes his way down the stairs. His entire right arm is a mass of leather, gears, and what looks like a hydraulic pump near his elbow. He's also wearing three belts, one of which has several vials of glitter holstered around it.

Somehow, between the glitter and the red and black waistcoat, it still gives off a Christmassy vibe. Huh.

Damien sighs. I guess he knew it was coming. It's… impressive, honestly. But after a moment, he seems to regain his composure.

"Shall we be off to the kitchens, then?"

I shoot him a confused look. "Aren't we decorating the Christmas tree?"

"Well, yes," he replies. "But in the Victorian era, there were several decorations made of natural or edible materials. The table in there is far more suitable for crafting our ornaments and garlands than anything nearer to the tree."

That… actually makes a fair amount of sense.

"Wait!" Amanda exclaims. "Edible ornaments?"

"Indeed! Gilded walnuts, popcorn and berries on strings, why, even ornately decorated cookies were used!" 

Damien is beaming. Or as close to a beam as he ever gets. Maybe it's just something I've noticed more since I've gotten to know him better. It's really kind of adorable.

Amanda's giving a conspiratorial smile of her own.

"Do we… get to eat the leftovers?"

Damien laughs. "So long as the tree is sufficiently decorated, I certainly don't see why not."

As we make our way through the house, I see that it's not only the outside that's gotten a Christmas makeover. The halls are _literally_ decked with holly! The staircase is wound with the same sort of evergreen garlands as the outdoor pillars, and I'm pretty sure I spot a few sprigs of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.

I'll have to make sure to explore those later. With Damien. In an otherwise empty house, if possible.

* * *

**Dad tip #379: The Muppet Christmas Carol is the Best Christmas Carol.**

* * *

The kitchen, when we arrive, is practically a destination in and of itself.

The table is covered with bowls of cranberries and popcorn, gold and silver paint, glue, and various shades of glitter, along with various other crafting supplies. I can smell the cookies baking in the oven, and I sure hope that Amanda was on the right track about leftovers, because I definitely want at least ten. There's vaguely festive music playing in the background, all of it orchestral. Some of the songs I recognize, but some are new to me. Probably carols that never caught on over here.

"Here. I wouldn't want any of us getting dirty."

Damien hands out aprons, and we set to work making red and white garlands, paper chains, and whatever other ornaments we can piece together out of his historically semi-accurate supplies.

Soon enough, we've got a plethora of gear, and Damien declares it time to decorate the tree.

* * *

**Dad tip #342: School holiday concerts are a cheap and enjoyable evening.**

* * *

Wow.

The tree is _huge_.

It's got to be eight… no, ten feet tall at least.

It still goes nowhere near the ceiling in the large, cavernous great room, but it certainly fills a pretty big corner.

There are no lights strung on the tree, but there are candles, which really isn't that surprising.

"The Victorians had a large part in defining modern Christmas celebration," Damien explains. "Prince Albert brought the idea of a tree with him from Germany, and it caught on rather quickly. And before the electric light, candles would adorn the branches. In fact, it was often said that the most beautifully decorated tree was simply one with candles and a few gifts within its branches."

Lucien smirks as he empties an armload of garlands onto the ground. "It's not real, though."

"What's not?" Amanda asks.

"The tree, for starters," Lucien replies.

I move a little closer, and study the tree more closely. He's right! The needles are definitely made out of plastic. And so, upon closer inspection, are the candles in their metal holders.

Damien blushes.

"I realize that this is one area where you might expect authenticity from me. But while I appreciate the adventure of hunting for the perfect tree, hand chopping it, and bringing it home on a horse-drawn sled, I find it preferable to avoid the pine allergies that I'm afraid I passed down to my son. And while candlelight is certainly beautiful, I rather like minimizing my chances of burning my house down, as was always an especially poignant seasonal concern in the winter."

I nod.

"That's… actually really understandable."

"Plus, it means that for the one-time investment in this tree, I should be able to enjoy its greenery for years, rather than having to let it waste away and eventually burn in the fireplace."

"Enough talk of tree business," Amanda decides. "I want to decorate!"

Damien smiles. "Shall we, then?"

Oh, we shall.

* * *

**Dad tip #255: Invest in a snowblower.**

* * *

#### TRIM THAT TREE!!

* * *

**Dad tip #321: Iron Man 3 is a Christmas movie.**

* * *

We all step back to admire our collective handiwork. I've got to say that I'm pleased. That is one festively decked-out tree.

"A magnificent job," Damien exclaims, clapping his hands together.

"What can I say? We're pretty awesome decorators."

Amanda nods her agreement. "Now if only we could see it lit up."

Lucien laughs. "Who says we can't?"

He pulls his phone out of a breast pocket and points it at the tree. 

Suddenly, all the lights are aglow, the candles flickering just like real flame within their glass bulbs.

"Another advantage to electric candles," Damien explains. "I was able to program them to react wirelessly, and created a simple app for their control."

Wow. That's… impressive.

"We're going to have to invite you over to work some of that technomancy on our tree," Amanda decides. I find myself nodding in agreement.

"It looks better after sundown," he admits. "I realize it's still a little early, but after that tea we discussed…."

"We'd love to stay and see it." I answer quickly.

Damien smiles, and I'm pretty sure he's blushing again. "But first, I was hoping that we could take a portrait together. For this year's Christmas cards."

"So _that's_ why you wanted us dressed like this." Amanda says. "Smart, sharp, and classy. I like it."

"It is indeed," Damien replies, "and I'm glad you approve."

The camera that Lucien sets up on the tripod is definitely not an antique. We arrange ourselves into various poses as the camera starts clicking away, creating a wide range of options ranging from commonplace victorian to silly and highly scandalous.

I make Damien promise to send all of them to me.

Once we're all photoed out, we go to the dining room to stuff ourselves on sandwiches, scones, and desserts while Damien explains how mincemeat came to contain no meat at all.

* * *

**Dad tip #291: Do your online shopping early to avoid missing deadlines.**

* * *

However good the tree looked during the day, it's nothing compared to how it looks by night. The candles give just the right touch, even if they're not real, and the glow seems even more ethereal than the fairy lights I'm used to.

We round out the evening with carols that, surprisingly, Lucien ends up playing for us on piano. Damien and Lucien know harmonies for most of them, and Amanda and I stake out the melody line

Somehow even Brian's light show, which is flashing in its full glory as we walk home, doesn't match up to the feeling of singing together. Amanda agrees when I tell her as much, the sounds of some Trans-Siberian Orchestra song still dimly audible through our closed door.

"It kind of felt like we were a family, didn't it?"

I meditate on that word for a moment. It's been a while since family meant anything more than Amanda and I to me.

For a moment, it makes me miss Alex so hard my heart aches.

Then I think about Damien, and the way his small smiles make me feel warm inside. I think of Amanda's expert popcorn stringing, and how proud Lucien was at showing off his musical abilities.

And maybe, I think, she's right.

"Family, huh? I think I could get used to that term."

And maybe, together, we will.


End file.
